


You'll Hear People Calling

by AthenasDino



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Dark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Marriage, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Misogyny, Not Beta Read, Origin Story, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Sexism, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28245144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenasDino/pseuds/AthenasDino
Summary: It's a pre-canon origins story, but with a dark twist.
Relationships: Amaya & Gren (The Dragon Prince), Amaya & Sarai (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Harrow (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Sarai (The Dragon Prince), Claudia & Soren (The Dragon Prince), Rayla & Runaan (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Sarai

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to ask me to update warning and tags if you catch something. I'm kinda just writing this for emotional release, so.

“What will I do when I grow up?”

It was raining outside their modest home. The tutting of the rain hitting the roof and the ground filled the silence of inside the house. They weren’t rich, not by any means, but they were resourceful. The two girls, in particular.

The adults traded a glance and the woman, gentle, quiet, and worn down looked at her.

“The greatest gift I was ever given was the gift of bringing peace.” The man placed his hand on his wife’s. “The best thing that ever happened to me was you.”

Sarai bit her tongue so she didn’t whimper. Amaya--although deaf--was quite the lip reader. In fact, it was because of her deafness she had learned reading lips so well. She was observant and could read people like an open book. 

She could see her younger sister’s shoulders tense as their mother spoke those words, like a dagger to the heart. _Your job is to be seen, not heard. That is the place of children, and the place of women in this world._

“That doesn’t answer my question, though,” she whispered just barely over the patting rain in hopes to not anger their father, who frowned deeply.

“As a mother, I want the best for you. I want you to be happy in life. And I know that you will never be happier than in the arms of your future husband.”

The two girls both tensed this time and it was not lost on their parents. Amaya and Sarai didn’t talk much about it, but love wasn’t a priority for them. Maybe someday, but that day would be far far away. They never said it out loud (or signed it, rather), even to each other, but that was mainly because they didn’t need to. They didn’t need to use words or hand signs when around the other. They understood each other already. It was nice, not having to explain everything to someone, not having to spell everything out.

“But what about success?” Amaya signed. Their father withdrew his hand.

He had been a soldier once, and a good one, too. They had discovered that Amaya and Sarai had a thing for fighting when they were very young. But their father’s ideas of a woman’s place in the world were distorted. When King Aldrich had signed a new law allowing women to join his militia, their father had left the military out of anger and prejudice. 

“You will only be successful once you marry and bare a child. There is no other way.” His tone left for no argument. 

“What about--”

“My daughters will not train to join the military!” He sighed when their mother flinched, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. “Alana, leave us.”

She nodded weakly and made her retreat. As told. Always doing what she was told.

“Sarai.”

“Yes, father?”

“You are to be married in the next year. I have already met with a handful of noble suitors for you to pick. I suggest you pick wisely. You you understand?”

Through Sarai’s blurry vision she could make out the shocked expression of Amaya next to her. What?

“I-- married?”

“Yes. That is what I said.”

“But... I’m not even sixteen yet...”

“A beautiful girl such as yourself should consider yourself lucky to be given such an opportunity. Not many do. You are beautiful and obedient and deserve to be well financially. From the suitors I have picked out, you won’t have to worry about going hungry.”

She shook her head. Married...? Just like that, her world had been turned upside-down. Her life ahead of her? Gone. Any plans she had about a future were demolished in that one moment. How... how could they do this? How could they take away her life?!

He sighed. “I know, it’s a lot to take in. You’ll be happier tomorrow once everything has settled. At least _you_ aren’t a burden,” he spat, glancing at Amaya. “You will bring honour to this family.”

She didn’t know what to do. She was frozen, but she wanted to throw something, scream, hurt herself, run away, cry herself a river. She would train in secret with her sister later. But right then in that moment, all she could do was run to up to her room, Amaya right on her heels. Always behind her.


	2. Gren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin story to Gren and Amaya's origin story.

Shattered glass dotted the wooden floor around him. Another bottle empty. His clothes were tattered like rags, his young face dirtied with soot. Another bottle empty. His arm was bleeding again, but thankfully not by the unlucky end of a belt. Another bottle empty. He bit back his cries, his tears, afraid to draw attention to where he was huddled in the corner. Yet another bottle empty.

The shadow of the man disappeared for just a moment, but he knew he couldn’t wait a moment too long, so he made his dash through the hole in the wall. It was small, just barely large enough for Gren to fit, covered by a box so his father wouldn’t notice. He had to escape. Never mind the consequences, he’ll just have to wait until the old man is passed out on the couch before he can make his return. Until then, he would take shelter in the makeshift shelter made of cardboard boxes and dirtied rags he had piled in an abandoned alley a few blocks down. More importantly, he needed food. He couldn’t remember the last time he had food. A few days, maybe? Oh, the things he would do for a loaf of-- bread? Was that bread he smelled?

In his mad dash through the streets, Gren’s foot tripped and he tumbled forward. Luckily no one was around to see. There on the cobblestone ground of the narrow alley, he kneeled. His arm hurt even more and blood dripped down, but not a lot. He would be fine. He would be fine. Everything will be fine...

_“I’ll beat you ‘till you ‘an’t walk, you--!”_

Gren shook him from his memories, sniffling as he wiped his tears and got back up, not bothering to dust himself off. The tavern was just at the end of the alley, so if he were quiet enough, then maybe--

“Hey! You! What do you think you’re doing?”

Gren’s head whipped over to where the source of the voice was coming from. Oh no. A guard. He had one leg over the window sill to the kitchen of the tavern where he had spotted a loaf of bread and a bowl of soup sitting there, but stopped when he heard the guarding calling to him. Oh no.

He made haste in withdrawing his leg from the window and sprinted in the other direction, the sound of heavy armour not far behind. Gren had an advantage: he was small, fast, and could fit into tight spaces. The guard, although stronger than him for sure, had to carry the extra weight of his armour about him. This would be an easy one, then. He’d get away without a problem and--

But then Gren ran into something and before he could register what was going on, firms hands were on him and pulling him to his feet.

“Wha--”

He looked up to meet the eyes of another guard. This one was young, but not as young as himself. She had short hair and her eyes were fierce and sharp. The other guard caught up to them, but she said nothing.

“What were you doing--” the guard started, but was cut off by Gren’s wince when he reached out to grab his forearm in an attempt to force him to meet his eyes. The second’s guards eyebrows knit when the first guard brought his hand up to his eyes, blood smeared on his hand.

They both looked at Gren’s forearm and the second guard took her hands off Gren for a moment and started making hand motions. She took her hands off him. He could go... but he knew that they would catch him again. He was stuck between their bodies, and something told him the girl was faster than her companion.

Then her hands were back on him, but this time they were gentle as she examined his forearm. Both guards looked closely before their eyes widened. Shards of glass were embedded in his flesh from when his father had thrown the bottle at him, his forearm raised to take the brunt of it.

The first guard--the one with the dark skin and thick hair pulled back, taller than the second--made hand motions, but Gren didn’t understand. What were they doing? What were they _going_ to do with him?

They stopped moving their hands around and the taller guard ran off as the shorter guard pulled him somewhere.

“Wh-where are you taking me?”

She didn’t acknowledge him. She just stood in front of a barrel in the alley and pointed at it.

“Y-you... want me to sit?” She pointed to the barrel again, so he took that as a yes. What was she going to do to him? This punishment wasn’t familiar to him.

A few minutes later--with stern eyes never leaving him--the taller guard returned with a pack, handing it other to the guard in front of him. She pulled stuff out; something metal, something that looked like cloth but clean and white, a flask of something that was probably alcohol of some sort. He flinched when she took his arm in her hands.

“N-no! Stop, don’t!”

He started kicking, but the taller guard pinned his legs to the side of the barrel. She frowned as she put the shiny metal thing to the damaged skin. 

The guard that was pinning his legs down huffed. “They’re tweezers, kid. I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you.”

The metal thing--tweezers, he had said--hovered over his damaged skin before plucking at a larger shard of glass making him jerk and wince, but her grip held firm.

“It’ll only take longer and hurt more if you keep moving,” the taller guard said from where he knelt on the ground to keep his legs down. Gren held his breath as she went for another large shard of glass.

After a few minutes of this, the taller guard straightened his legs out, satisfied that there was no longer a need to hold them down. Gren’s feet would twitch every time a shard was removed, but that wasn’t much trouble.

It took a few more minutes to make sure all the small pieces were removed and a few more to do a thorough scan to make sure she got everything. She then pulled out a small square of the white cloth and the flask of alcohol. Before she could do anything, the other guard explained what it was.

“We’re going to disinfect the wound with the gauze and ointment now, okay?”

He nodded slowly and the girl smirked playfully as she tilted the alcohol--ointment--onto the cloth--gauze--before dabbing it on his forearm. He winced when it stung his raw skin, jerking his arm back, but her hand kept it firmly in place as she continued her work. Once this was done and she wrapped it up with more gauze, Gren looked at his arm. Did they...? Did they just treat his wound?

“I...”

He looked around. Surely they weren’t doing this out of the kindness of their hearts? There had to be some trick, some sort of trap. Yes that was it! They were distracting him and luring him into a trap! He had to get out of here. Maybe if he ran fast enough...

A hand caught his shoulder right as he took a step, stopping him from escaping. He turned around to find the shorter guard stopping him, her other hand reaching to her belt. His heart sped up. Oh no.

She looked up and tossed him a pouch, his hands catching it on instinct. It... it jingled. Looking inside, there were coins. Money? He looked back up, then back at the pouch, then back to her, a smug smile playing on her face. She jerked her head in the direction of the tavern where he had previously tried to steal a meal from.

And then they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more Gren and Amaya later! This was just written for Gren's background.
> 
> Gren is about 10 or 11 when this happens.


End file.
